


Sticky Business

by OftheLilies



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bottom Tony, Canon Compliant up to first Avengers movie, Ceiling Vent Clint Barton, Identity Porn, M/M, Pining, Rhodey Is a Good Bro, Sexual Tension, Steve is head over heels, Stony - Freeform, Tony is oblivious, Top Steve, sexy times happen, steve rogers - Freeform, sticky notes, tony is too, tony stark - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-13 04:56:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12976434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OftheLilies/pseuds/OftheLilies
Summary: Steve begins to secretly write Tony sticky notes. Tony loves them… But he also can’t figure out who they are from. The notes start innocent and platonically enough, but begin to change as his friendship with Steve evolves.





	Sticky Business

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> Thank you for checking out this fic. This is the first time I’ve tried writing a Stony fanfic so I’m a little nervous. This was suppose to be under 10,000 words and somehow got away from me. I love these guys so much and I hope everyone enjoys reading this as much as I did writing it. Special thanks to [Robin tcJ ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Robin_tCJ/profile)who took the time to beta this. Any kudos, comments or feedback is appreciated! 
> 
>  

He wiped the drool that had gone from accumulating across the metal tabletop to his facial hair and chin. That was the third night in a row he'd woken up down here at one of his work benches, hunched over in an uncomfortable position that had his bones voicing their complaints loudly and unrelentingly. With a cringe, Tony stretched out his arms with several nearly alarming pops. Yeah, he was getting too old for this.

 

There was nothing strange in itself in this, but he also wasn't certain that he'd seen another human being in an entire week. Rhodey had given him a couple of calls that Tony had forwarded to voicemail whilst in the thrall of his latest project. No one had come looking for him in person in days, to try and cajole him upstairs to join the other Avengers in whatever it was they did on the other floors of the Avenger Tower when Tony wasn't around. Occasionally, Bruce would come down and express his concern through coded science talk, but he'd been gone for a majority of this past week.

 

He shook off the sense of deflation over no one having come to check on him as his mind went back to the latest design for the widow's bites that he'd been working on. The thoughts only lingered there for a brief instant before an unusual color on the desk caught his attention. A bright neon pink was in his peripheral vision, and while he had nothing against the color itself, it was far from his lab's usual aesthetic.

 

Tony slid off the stool he had been sitting on to walk over to the far end of the bench to examine further. The bright pink sticky note was attached to a plate that had food on it. Steam was rising from the hot plate --fairly basic-- pasta with marinara sauce and a large cup of equally hot coffee behind it. Tony stared at it blankly for a moment before going for the coffee first. Whoever had left it must have done so very recently. It could have even been what had woken up Tony in the first place.

 

It was a nice gesture, whoever had done it. He ignored the sneaking hands of warmth that settled over him as he picked up the sticky note. _'Have a nice day,'_ had been scrawled across it. The handwriting wasn't particularly special, had the slightest slant to the right. Some of the letters clustered so closely together that they connected.

 

"Dum-E, throw this out for me," Tony muttered, extending his hand towards the whirring sound that emanated from the bot as it came closer. The pink continued to catch his eye, as did the dark ink. Did he really want to throw it away? "On second thought, nevermind." 

 

When he'd finished eating, he tossed the note into a drawer. He was convinced that he'd soon forget about the small act of kindness, but not able to throw away the evidence of it.

 

Forgetting the act would have been a lot easier if it hadn't kept happening. Over the following days and weeks, Tony's collection of sticky notes had grown from one to over half a dozen. They came in shades of bright neons that were in constant rotation, bearing weirdly nice messages like _'Keep up the hard work.'_ , _'_ _Don't stay up too late'_ , or his personal favorite, ' _I'm surprised the human body can produce that much saliva. Try not to drown.'_

 

He kept all of them inside his workbench, sequestered in a small drawer that made Tony feel particularly pathetic when he opened it to flip through the notes some days. On most days, though, it brought a smile to his face.

 

Tony couldn't shake the aspects of the notes that bothered him when he finally grew tired from work due to lack of eating or sleeping. That it was now happening often enough to be considered a pattern. The pattern being that Tony was never conscious when whoever was doing this would bring down the food and coffee. It would always be hot, like the person had just left it there. The food hadn't repeated itself yet. A couple times it appeared to have been taken from a takeout box and deposited on one of his ceramic plates, other times it seemed to be homemade. He always preferred the latter.

 

Tony was a relatively deep sleeper, as a result of usually only falling asleep when he'd reached the point of total exhaustion. There was no schedule that he followed when it came to sleeping and one time a plate had been left for him at the early hours of around three in the morning. How this person was timing it so perfectly had Tony's head hurting. The only explanation that he could think of was the individual was getting assistance from JARVIS.

 

He wasn't really that concerned about who was wandering in and out of his labs at all hours. While the list of people who had access to his lab wasn't short, it wasn't that long either. Mostly, it was restricted to some Stark Industry personnel, a few shield agents, and the Avengers at the normal security settings. Depending on Tony's mood he sometimes altered the settings for a stricter protocol. He hadn't done so since the small sticky notes had started, afraid that he would cause them to stop.

 

He had an idea to confirm his hypothesis of it likely being done with JARVIS' assistance and not just lucky timing in finding him asleep. It probably wasn't his best idea. The only way he could think to do this was delaying sleep for as long as possible. As of lately his sleep schedule had been as regular as it gets -a few hours every other day- and had resulted in these notes being given to him on about the same schedule. If he had no notes past that short time period, he could assume they were using some method to track when he was falling asleep and waking. The longer he delayed sleep, the more he could trust his findings.

The logic on this was shaky, he was well aware, and he probably already didn't have enough sleep as it was. Tony wasn't quite sure why he didn't just ask JARVIS and get this over with now. It would be simpler for everyone that way, but it felt like the easy way out and Tony wasn't interested in that way. Wasn't really sure what he'd say to the person if he knew who it was.

 

"Thanks for the sticky notes and food? They are the only highlight of my day?" he said out loud, mulling it over and rejecting it out of hand. It sounded pitiful, depressing, and too dependent on someone whose name he didn't even know. Sleep experiment it was.

 

Which went about as well as one would expect. Mostly fueled with the power of caffeine, he'd made it to day five without falling asleep from sheer exhaustion. Nodding off and barely keeping himself awake was a regular occurrence. When the inevitable crash came, and it hit him hard, he was just able to drag his tired body over to his in-lab cot before passing out. The dreams weren't really dreams but past nightmares.

 

Tony thought he was still in them when he heard JARVIS' calling out protocols to him and descriptions of events that needed his attention. Alarm bells were ringing in his ears as he shot up. The Avengers were needed, Iron Man was needed. He was needed.

 

"Sir. You have had under three hours of sleep in the period of five days. I strongly advise against you partaking in this assignment.”

 

Tony was already up and in motion, ignoring all the aches and pains that came with neglecting your body the way he had this past week. Every day without a note from this mystery person felt a little more empty. He looked over to the desk to find it just as he left it. The disappointment was almost insurmountable, but expected no one -not even JARVIS- could have predicted the alarms that had woken him up at this very moment.

 

"I've got this," he said, not sure if it was a defensive comment to his own A.I. or a reassurance for himself. It was only right before he moved to put his helmet over his head that he realized there was a sticky adhesive on his forehead. With one hand, he pulled away a new sticky note. The handwriting was darker than it had been in all previous notes, letting the ink bleed into the green surface.

 

With a scoff, he dropped it to the desk and slid his helmet on.  Even as the rest of his suit came and attached itself around his body and his eyes lit up with blue HUD projections he couldn't shake the words from his head.

 

_ 'Take better care of yourself.' _

 

Maybe he would try that when he got back from trying to take care of everybody else.

 

The mission was a success. Bots upon bots had swarmed Long Island, controlled by a new villain on the scene, Dr. Doom. Points given for alliteration, he guessed, but Tony hadn't been exactly impressed. He conveyed as much to Steve, whose face was an interesting and angry shade of red as he stood in front of Tony.

 

"You can't keep pulling stunts like, that Iron Man." The way Steve said his title almost made a mockery of it. Tony was busy trying to decide if he should keep his face impassive or smirk in response. Maybe meet Steve verbally swing for swing. The Avengers hadn't been on many missions together, were still adjusting as a team since their brief time apart following the Chitauri incident. But this felt familiar, the way Steve would move his body was more of a threat than all of his words. It left Tony feeling on edge and more than a little exhilarated.

 

"I calculated-" Tony began in a tone that said he was stating obvious facts here. That no matter how out of control a situation looked, he was still maintaining control. Or at least, if he wasn't, he could easily get it back.

 

"If you tell me you calculated the risks one more time, Stark..." The fight had lasted hours, long enough to challenge Steve's stamina into a sweat. His usually neat part had strands of hair plastered to his forehead. Tony knew the color of his teammate’s eyes, but every argument was an unnecessary reminder. They always appeared to be such a deeper blue in these moments.

 

The few tears in Steve's uniform were almost nothing compared to the damage to Tony's suit. There were dents all along the metaled armor – dents that had, in turn, taken damage into skin. Tony could feel where every sharp point dug in, creating new bruises in their wake. His left leg was in particularly bad shape. Scans suggested that it was all just bruising and some scrapes, no breaks this go-round.

 

"Fine, I won’t tell you that." Tony figured that was as agreeable as he was getting here. "No one got hurt." That was what was important here right? Saving everyone even if it meant not saving himself.

 

"You got hurt. You could have gotten yourself killed. Look at you, when was the last time you slept? That didn't need to be turned into a one-man suicide mission." It was hardly all of that, and how was it that Tony was the one that was always accused of being a drama queen? Tony, who was currently preparing a sharp reply that would no doubt only escalate the situation. Clint and Natasha had very schooled expressions, but Bruce looked a bit more nervous. "You need to look after yourself, Stark."

 

The words were so similar to those of the sticky note that had been on his forehead only hours ago, that it served as an instant reminder. The memory had him shutting his mouth, and an uncharacteristic sort of shame filled him even though he knew he'd done nothing wrong. The words from Captain America didn't have the same kind of affection that the ones on paper had. They were an insult, a comment on what he was doing wrong and how he needed to improve. All Steve Rogers ever managed to do was make Tony Stark feel like he was constantly falling short. He'd gotten enough of that from his father, he didn't need it now that he was gone.

 

"I'm taking a shower. Send me a debrief, Capsicle." Tony got out of the room in a hurry, despite his limp. All those days without sleeping rested heavy on his shoulders. He was too tired to entertain Steve's shouting any longer. Steve nodded like Tony had requested permission.

 

The next day, when Tony brought his battered body back down to the lab, an orange note was on the transparent door.

 

_ 'You are simultaneously a genius and an idiot.' _

 

It was difficult to wipe the smile off his face for the remainder of the day.

 

The notes continued on in theme. All of them in the same strand of kindness, a few teasing, and the occasional edging on snarky fondness. It was an unusual one-way street of communication, but with every sticky note Tony found his time in the lab only increasing. Which he was willing to bet hadn't been the writer's intentions when they started this. The prospect of sleeping in his own bed seemed less appealing day by day. Far fewer people had access to his personal quarters, which meant no waking up to neon, hot coffee, and additional sustenance.

 

Tony was willing to label his behavior as irrational. It was why everyone seemed so shocked when he was upstairs in the common area. Freshly showered and shaved in preparation for a series of meetings he didn't want to go to. The choice had been taken from him however, as his CEO had made it clear that he was on his last leg with avoiding work. Stark Industries board meetings seemed so much less exciting compared to hours of work on the latest version of Iron Man.

 

Still. Death by Pepper Potts also meant no working on the suit. She was not a woman to be trifled with. Had he been avoiding the meetings in part to avoid contact with her since their breakup? Probably, but to be fair, he had done his best to get out of meetings before that as well. Weeks of what should be worthless sticky notes had let him build up a new sort of armor in preparation for today.

 

"Nice to see you're alive," called Clint from an unknown location.

 

Tony surveyed the room again a little perplexed when only Steve and Natasha came into view. Natasha wasn't paying him any mind since the brief glance when he'd first entered the room.

 

Steve was paying close attention to the newspaper article he was reading, pretending Tony wasn't even in the room until Tony crowded closer into his space. Tony wasn’t above some minor harassment for people to take notice, even if that people was Rogers. 

 

With a sigh, Steve glanced up. "Yes, nice of you to join us, Tony." When Tony continued to peer around looking for Hawkeye, he added, "Vents."

 

Tony looked up towards the vaulted ceilings with a great deal of speculation and doubt. It was only when there was a creak in that direction did he redirect himself back to Steve. "Well, that has to be some kind of security hazard."

 

Steve merely hummed a reply and flipped to the next page. There was a sort of irritation Tony got when he felt he wasn't getting the amount of attention he deserved. It wasn't the most healthy way of dealing with things, but coping mechanisms had never been his strong suit. He reached forward, grabbing one of the pieces of toast from Steve's plate and darting out of reach while biting a piece off. "How do I look?" he asked to make sure he had the captain's attention and eye contact this time. It wasn't a question that really needed answering, obviously.

 

A heavier sigh this time, but nothing too reactionary. Steve finally glanced up. Tony waited for some kind of faulting remark, but Steve just stared blankly and didn’t respond as quickly as Tony anticipated. "Going somewhere?" he seemed to be indicating Tony's very expensive, three piece suit. It hung nicely on his figure, accentuating the musculature in his small frame instead of drawing from it. A pair of sunglasses hung at his collar. Rhodey kept telling him he had to stop wearing them indoors, that it made him look like an asshole.

 

"Yeah, I have this day job gig that I guess keeps the lights on around here. Apparently they expect me to come to meetings?" Tony said with a shrug of his hands while Steve rolled his eyes. There was something to savor about getting the iconic Captain America to roll his eyes at you. It meant Tony was reaching a higher level of annoying behaviors. "At least that's what my master tells me," Tony mutters more to himself than to Steve.

 

"Thank you," Steve finally decided on after a few beats of silence. Tony wasn't sure he'd heard him correctly – that didn’t make sense, did it? "You've been doing a lot for the Avengers lately and I know we don't say it often enough." He sounded so serious and not exactly what Tony was going for first thing in the morning.

 

"No problem Rogers," he muttered, fighting off a flush. He was not going to get worked up over a compliment from his former idol. Steve was a nice guy, Tony knew that. This is what nice guys did. They thanked people for their work whether they meant it or not. "I, uh, probably should get going. Have fun… With the paper." Tony was cringing to himself as he quickly walked away, passing Bruce with a nod on the way out.

 

It had definitely been one of his friendlier interactions with Steven Rogers, but he'd mostly forgotten it by the time he'd returned back to Avenger's Tower. Pepper was nothing if not incredibly efficient. What Tony had expected to be about four horrible meetings had tripled into an entire day of them. Pepper figured she should take advantage of Tony's rare presence and cram his day to capacity. He wasn't certain what him nodding along to all of their nonsense did to productivity. While Tony was a businessman, his passion had always been inventing. He didn't understand what the point was in debating things when whatever course of action he suggested had the highest chances for success.

 

The day was a waste, and he was tired and irritated when he walked into his lab. The feeling fled when he spotted a bright yellow note at the edge of his workspace. Next to it was coffee and what seemed to be Thai food, but it was always the note that had him first. _'You look good in a suit.'_ Tony stood there for minutes taking in the words. Not completely comprehending why his heart was beating a little faster in his chest. There was something different about this one. The others had all been as equally nice, but if they were complimenting him they were complimenting his work, not his appearance. It seemed much more personal and almost like flirting.

 

Tony took a distracted bite of the pad thai, not even really able to taste it as he continued to stare at the sticky note stuck to the metal surface in front of him. It was on the next bite that his mouth curled into a smile.

 

The pattern had now been disrupted. It was still impossible to really narrow it down to who it could be, given the amount of people he passed by in his suit that day. He'd seen every Avenger besides Thor -and well, technically Clint, but Tony wasn't counting that- several shield agents had been milling around, and he'd seen a lot of different Stark personnel. Which left him at almost square one.

 

The sticky notes were still mostly nice messages, but there was a variation to them now. Whenever Stark ventured out of his lab and back into the world of the living the chances of this variation occurring increased.

 

_ 'You have a nice smile.' _

 

_ 'You are incredibly irritating, but it's hard for me to take my eyes off you. Still, very irritating.' _

 

_ 'I think about touching your hair more than I should. I think about you more than I should.' _

 

These kind of notes, that were seeming more and more to be from a secret admirer, left Tony's mouth dry. He tried to relieve the feeling by immediately consuming coffee, but it didn't offer the relief he was searching for. Sometimes his palms would grow a little damp and his stomach would flutter. There was no explanation that Tony could think of for these reactions that he was willing to label. Having himself perk up at the sight of neon sticky notes was one thing, developing a crush over an unknown person because of a few sentences was unacceptable.

 

The temptation to just ask JARVIS who it was almost beyond resisting, but it felt like a sort of betrayal. Whoever this was obviously wanted their identity kept secret for now and it wasn’t exactly hurting Tony by it staying that way. It just felt like he was being slowly tortured by his own curiosity. Caffeine was still on his tongue as he reread the most recent note. _'I wish you would say my name.'_

 

Tony generally addressed people by their names, unless he'd thought up a much better nickname. Which, anyone who'd prefer their own name over a Stark certified nickname was clearly deeply faulted. Like Clint's birdbrain one. Classic. Thinking on it longer, he could start to identify the problem -- that he’d come up with a better nickname for almost everyone he knew.

 

Okay, he could nix the nicknames for a few days. Try calling everyone by their actual ones. See what happened, if anything. For all he knew this person had no actual verbal communication with him on a day to day basis. The whole thing was steadily growing more complicated in Tony's mind. He'd put off telling Rhodey about any of this because of the laughter and teasing that was sure to follow.

 

Today Tony was going to be more social and do his work upstairs in the common room. It was usually just the Avengers milling about, but sometimes his assistant, other Stark workers, or the rarely sighted Shield agent would drop by. Making up his mind, he grabbed a nearby tablet and headed upstairs. He was just doing schematics today anyway and that didn’t require being in the lab.

 

To Tony’s surprise only Steve was in the common area seated on one of the long reaching white couches. There was a baseball game on the television screen because it was Steve and of course he was watching baseball. The two of them had been getting on a lot better since the whole thanking incident. It helped that Steve was around the tower almost as often as Tony and held a similarly erratic sleeping schedule. Tony actually wasn’t certain that the Captain did sleep. Maybe he required less of it because of the serum? Regardless, Bruce was very strict with his sleeping schedule since disrupting it caused him undue stress and undue stress was a great way to get the big guy out. Clint and Natasha were often out on their various assignments that they never spoke any details about. Thor had the whole ‘from another planet’ thing going on, which left a lot of time for Tony and Steve to run into each other.

 

They still would get in squabbles when it came to missions and their different approaches, but otherwise things were good. Tony might even start to consider himself almost on a friendship type level with Steve. Kind of. There was still a lot of trepidation when they were alone together and an uncertainty of how to act. A feeling that was very present now as Tony debated where he should sit before Steve noticed him.

 

Tony decided to sit on the same couch, but with at least a cushion’s space between them. “Hey Cap-“ he cut himself off recalling his nixing of nicknames. Not that is really applied to Steve, but it set a good precedent to set. “Steve,” Tony tried awkwardly and his teammate looked up immediately startled and wide eyed. Tony realized then that he’d never had actually called him Steve before and maybe Steve wasn’t okay with that. “Rogers,” Tony tried backpedaling quickly, but everything was running together.  “Uh Captain Steven Rogers. Hi.” Steve was now giving him that blank indecipherable stare. Tony put a hand to his face and let it run down aggressively.  “That was weird wasn't it?”

 

“A little,” Steve agreed, still appearing unreadable. “Steve is fine outside of field work,” he offered, taking pity on Tony. The stare continued, though.

 

“I’m doing this thing,” Tony tried to explain trailing off. He refocused some of his energy to his tablet and started going through images that reflected in blue off the screen. He hoped Steve would let it drop there.

 

“A thing?” he questioned still peering at Tony instead of the baseball game.

 

“Uh, yeah,” Tony said. “Not calling people by nicknames,” Tony muttered, staring harder at the screen. Saying it out loud didn’t make him feel any less embarrassed.

 

“That seems out of character.” Tony glanced over at Steve, but he was once again watching the game. Still, there had been something questioning about the statement. A majority of their interactions outside of work had been Tony talking a lot with minimal input from Steve. This give and take structure was a little new. Tony felt like he was expected to continue on with his explanation.

 

He could have always lied, but there was something about lying to Captain America that felt inherently wrong. Something probably still ingrained in him from his childhood hero worship that couldn’t be shaken. “I think I have a secret admirer,” Tony finally said, more awkwardly than he thought he was capable, given his level of charisma.

 

The crystalline eyes were back, but his brows were furrowed. Despite it being a more expressive look than before Tony had no idea what it meant. Finally an eyebrow rose with a sly sort of smile. Anyone who didn’t know Steve well would find it out of place. “I’d have thought you had a lot of those.”

 

“I guess there are some admirers,” Tony conceded and the term felt so outdated, but in terms of outdated speech Steve was the go-to guy. Probably didn’t see anything wrong with it or understand the barely there flush to Tony’s face. “But they aren’t exactly subtle.”

 

“I’ve noticed,” Steve said a bit sarcastically. Was there usually large groups of Avengers fan club members outside the tower? Yes, and there were a lot of ‘I love Tony Stark’ signs in those groups. But… Tony wasn’t sure where his thought with that was going so he laughed instead. “And the nicknames?”

 

Tony didn’t want to get into the sticky notes, because getting into them would show what they meant to him. He doubted that Steve would ever tease and make fun of him over it like some of the other Avengers or Rhodey, but he wasn’t willing to show any sort of vulnerability around the man either. “Trying to narrow down who it is.”

 

“Why would you do that?” There was a sharpness to his voice that immediately had Tony feeling defensive.

 

“Curiosity? Wouldn’t you be curious?” It was as close to a lie as Tony was able to get. Yes, it was curiosity, but maybe more than that. He remembered how his heart was hammering in his chest when looking at today’s sticky note. Tony had started reading several books on graphology, which he was pretty sure might be ninety-five percent bullshit. He was certain Steve didn’t want to hear what Tony thought of the way the mystery person looped their ‘g’s and what it meant about their personality. Tony could already see the incredulous expression.

 

“Ah,” Steve said just above a whisper, back to looking at the tv again. A minute went by before he spoke a second time. “Any luck?”

 

“Not really,” Tony admitted. “Beyond it having to be someone who has access to my lab there isn’t a lot of information. I think I’ve gone through everyone.”

 

“Everyone?” Steve asked doubtfully.

 

“Yeah, I mean I even considered Nat for a period. She was my assistant for over a short while and came onto me a lot.” Tony waggled his eyebrows in a suggestive gesture.

 

Steve snorted. “Wasn’t she undercover?”

 

“Not the point, Steve!” Tony said quickly. “I don’t think you understand the kind of effect I have on people,” he continued on, leaning back into the sofa with a troubled sigh. There was the first eye roll of the day. “But yeah, I mostly ruled it out. It did lead me to considering my current assistant.” A more thoughtful expression on his own face now. “I think I need to consider more guys though. The handwriting doesn’t really give away gender.”

 

Steve stiffened next to him, but continued watching his game. “Guys as in males?”

 

“Yes, men, Captain Obvious,” Tony muttered flipping through more schematics and trying to multitask. Now that he had started talking about it the words were coming easier. All these thoughts that had been bouncing around his head finally had an outlet. As outlets went, Steve wasn’t too bad. It wasn’t like he was going to spread the word around and potentially tip this person off. Maybe another opinion was what he needed to solve the mystery.

 

Hesitation came with several aborted starts to sentences before Steve decided on one. Tony filtered most of it out before Steve started speaking. “And you’d be okay with that? A fella?”

 

Ignoring the antiquated term, Tony froze as he felt a sort of ice water pour itself into his veins.  He put his tablet down and turned to look at Steve with an expression that bordered on anger. “Is there something wrong with that, Rogers?” Tony didn’t wait for him to answer. “This isn’t the 1940s anymore. There-“

 

“No! No,” Steve interrupted. “No,” he said again for good measure. “That’s not what I meant.”

 

“Because there’s nothing wrong-“

 

“I know there’s nothing wrong with it,” Steve rushed out hurriedly, looking more flustered than Tony had ever seen him. “I wasn’t saying that.”

 

Tony studied him for another second before relaxing and laughing like he hadn’t just accused Steve of homophobia. “Nah, I wouldn’t mind if a guy liked me,” he said with a shrug. Steve was sitting there still looking vaguely panicked. “Like you said, nothing wrong with that.”

 

Steve ran a hand through his hair in a frustrated gesture. Tony got the feeling he was missing something here, but after that awkward moment he wasn’t willing to explore what.

 

“How about you?”

 

“Me?” Steve asked, eyes glancing back and forth between Tony and a guy hitting a ball into the stands. Cheering could be heard.

 

“Yeah. Any dames catching Captain America’s interest?” It was a hard thing to imagine, especially having known Aunt Peggy. Not a lot of girls could live up to that woman. That wasn’t even taking into account how old fashioned Steve seemed to be and how not old fashion women tended to be in this day and age. Tony couldn’t imagine him handling the modern era dating norms well. Picturing it even brought a smile to his face.

 

The flickering eye movement continued as Steve thought over his answer. There was a smirk that was all Steve Rogers when he replied, “No, no dames.”

 

Tony narrowed his eyes back in his -probably- friend’s direction. Not certain what to say to that, given the way Steve had responded. Tony was distracted as Bruce came in.

 

“Hey, guys,” Bruce called out heading to the kitchen area.

 

“Hey, Big Buy. Er Bruce.” Bruce smiled and continued on like Tony’s behavior was normal. No round of fifty questions like with Steve. Glancing back at the man Tony found he looked engrossed in the game again, not that he’d want to continue that line of questioning now that they had another individual here to comment.

 

_'It’s you.’_

 

_'I was wrong about you. I think about telling you that to your face, but can never seem to say it when I’m standing in front of you.’_

 

_`You aren’t nearly as self centered as you let people believe. The very opposite.’_

 

_'I may have an entire notebook filled with drawings of you. You would definitely make fun of me if you saw it.’_

 

_'Sometimes you are all I think about and I can’t tell if you ever think about me.’_

 

The messages were becoming more and more like confessions. They’d gone past surface level observations and were hitting Tony closer than he’d like. There was still the odd ‘have a nice day’ thrown in there, but with less and less frequency. Tony realized that this had been going on for months. Think about them? That’s all he seemed to be able to do lately. For a genius he certainly felt like an idiot as he continued to think about the person’s identity without a clue as to who it could be. The recent sticky notes were also suggesting a certain level of familiarity that wouldn’t be achievable without at least one face to face conversation.

 

The thought sent a shiver through him as he continued soldering away at the metal in front of him. Tony tried to picture the person’s face. How they must be good at hiding their emotions if Tony hadn’t even had the slightest clue of their interest. Had they said something telling? Tried flirting with Tony, but only to have it go completely over his head? Tony had his moments of obliviousness and a tendency to become so involved in his own complicated thoughts that he missed the obvious. He still found it doubtful he could miss something like this.

 

The last mission hadn’t gone too well for him. Tony was distracted, staring at each one of his teammates wondering if it could be any one of them. Maybe Tony was allowed a few distractions, but Iron Man certainly wasn’t. But Tony didn’t really like separating himself out from his superhero identity, meaning, Tony was not allowed a few distractions. He’d have to find a way to once and for all eliminate team members. Maybe he could rope Steve into helping him as Steve had unwittingly become his sounding board as of late. Tony blamed it on proximity.

 

He’d been invited upstairs for a movie night. Tony had a long standing habit of saying yes to these and then working right through them. A teammate would sometimes come downstairs and drag him back up from his work. That would not be happening today. He’d had JARVIS set multiple alarms for him.

 

The alarms hadn’t worked as well as he’d hoped. Tony ended up being ten minutes late to the gathering.

 

“You’re late, Stark,” Natasha commented when he walked into the room. Everyone was seated on the couch already with a mountain of different snacks spilled across the long coffee table’s surface. Natasha had her legs across Clint’s lap and didn’t appear happy about the current situation.

 

He held out his arms in an ‘all eyes on me’ gesture. “Takes time to look this good,” Tony said, winking. “I see the party hasn’t really started yet.” No movie was playing, is what he meant. Tony did a double take when he found Thor was also on the couch. Did Thor always come to these things? Huh, guess he had been missing out if he also brought that Asgardian mead along.

 

“You’re wearing a hoodie and we are fighting over what to watch,” Clint responded. “I don’t care as long as it isn’t another documentary,” he gave Bruce a pointed look.

 

“ _A Sloth Named Velcro_ was extremely riveting. Did you know-“

 

“Maybe Tony should choose? I don’t think he has before,” Steve threw in there quickly. Tony gave Bruce a comforting pat on the shoulder as he walked behind the couch to get to the far end. The only spot open was next to Steve.

 

“Because he hasn’t been coming to these very often,” Clint was quick to point out. “I think that means he vetoed his turn.”

 

“Sure! I’ll pick one out,” Tony answered like Clint hadn’t said anything. “Sorry tweety bird, maybe next time.” Tony got out his phone and used it to flick through movies quickly before coming to _Attack of the Puppet People_ and stopping there. With a flick of his wrist the movie transferred from his phone to the giant screen in front of him.

 

“And I thought sloths were the bar to beat,” was grumbled when black and white appeared.

 

“What’s not to love about a psychotic-“

 

“Don’t ruin it for everyone, Stark,” Natasha quickly snapped in a manner that had Tony shutting his mouth and kind of shrugging while awkwardly leaning forward in his seat as the starting credits rolled.

 

He reached forward to grab a Twizzler while taking in his teammates. It took a lot of skill to try and make handling a Twizzler seem provocative, but Tony thought he did a pretty good job as he brought it slowly to his mouth and held it there for a couple seconds longer than necessary. He let his tongue flick out before finally putting half of it in his mouth, the other part sticking out into the air. Glancing around the only one looking in his direction was Steve and that wasn’t exactly helpful. “Want one?” he offered with his mouth full and simultaneously reaching for another. He was immediately shushed by Natasha, who apparently took movie night very seriously.

 

Steve was still looking at him. “I’m good.”

 

Minutes of badly manipulating snack products to look sexual went by before Tony realized he’d have to move onto phase two.  He unzipped his hoodie with a flourish that earned him a glare from a deadly red headed spy. Okay, so maybe planning this around movie night hadn’t been the greatest idea. Tony had already started, though, and it wasn’t like he could ever really fully turn down the charm, so he might as well go through with it.

 

He chucked his jacket to the side, now only wearing a dark, threadbare tank top. It was the kind that was generally reserved for working in the lab. Sometimes things got hot enough in there that this was the only thing he wouldn’t sweat through. Having this much skin showing next to dangerous supplies might not be the best lab protocol, but neither was having heat stroke. The darkness of the top served as a poor dimmer for his arc reactor, but it wasn’t quite bright enough to distract from the screen. Such a flimsy material allowed all the muscles in his upper body to stand out clearly in a way his normal day to day wear didn’t. There was no way that anyone who was writing him the sticky notes they had been sending would be able to keep their eyes off of him.

 

Looking around the room everyone was aptly watching the screen. Nothing had even really happened yet, but Thor was staring on intently with his mouth slightly open and a hand paused midair with a piece of popcorn halted in its travels. This was a tough crowd. Even if the admirer wasn’t here these people had to be crazy not to take in the view while they could, or so Tony thought while frowning at the screen himself. This had felt fully foolproof at the start.

 

Thirty more minutes into the movie that Tony was only half paying attention to he decided he should give this one more shot. Loudly he began to shift in his seat, making sure while doing so that he was moving into positions where he was flexing subtly. This continued on for a short period to the dismay of several others. It was when Tony began to stretch his arm behind his back so his hands clasped in the middle that Natasha slammed a nearly empty bowl of popcorn onto the table top.

 

“Do you know how to be quiet, Stark?”  

 

“You would be surprised how often I’m asked that.”

 

“I don’t think I would,” she said stiffly, glaring him down and Tony threw up his hands in a multi level defeat. No one but Steve had looked at him during this entire time. Steve had only been looking because he was sitting next to Tony and Tony had, admittedly, been fairly disruptive.

 

“I’m going to get more popcorn,” Tony muttered grabbing the bowl Natasha had set down and making a run for the kitchen before he was knifed. Tony knew when to call it day. The conclusions were looking very much like not a team member. He threw a bag into the microwave and set it to two minutes. The sound of the movie in the background had masked incoming footsteps. Tony nearly jumped when he found Steve standing behind him.

 

“Hey,” he said shakily. “What are you doing here? Were they so worried I couldn’t handle a microwave they sent the only person who was born before they were invented?”

 

A long stare down before Steve rolled his eyes. “Getting something to drink,” he responded, walking over to the fridge. “Nat was right, though. What were you doing in there?” Steve asked, not sounding as annoyed as Tony expected him to be given that he’d been sitting next to him through it all. There was a careful blankness to his voice as he passed Tony and eyed his arc reactor speculatively.

 

“Trying to rule out everyone in the team once and for all,” Tony said.

 

“Ah,” Steve commented opening the door so a cool light filled the space. He made to to grab the large milk container. There was something so wholesome about the idea of Captain America drinking milk that Tony had to resist making a comment. He, himself could go for something much stronger right about now. “Your secret admirer again?”

 

“Yeah,” he said quietly, not particularly liking Steve’s wording or his volume. “Did you notice anyone looking at me? Like, in a pervy way. Not in a ‘I want to kill you’ way,” he added for good measure.

 

“I wasn’t looking at anyone else.” Steve set the container down more heavily than necessary. He paused to stare at the popcorn that was just starting to pop before looking back at Tony. There was something meaningful about the eye contact that had Tony glancing away out of reflex.

 

“Some wingman you are.”

 

“I don’t really want to be your wingman,” Steve sort of mumbled under his breath, barely loud enough to be heard. He uncapped the milk bottle before realizing he didn’t have a cup to pour into.

 

Tony chose to ignore that like he hadn’t heard it. “So what do you think? I can fairly rule them all out?” Tony said looking thoughtfully at the microwave until Steve had stepped into his space and he didn’t have much of a choice but to look up at him.

 

“I think,” Steve said lowly, not that far from Tony’s ear. Steve’s hand reached forward to open the cupboard above and behind Tony’s head. He was close enough that Tony could feel his body heat. Tony pressed in closer to the counter so it bit into his back. “That if your admirer were here, with you looking like that... They wouldn’t be able to stay away.”

 

Which wasn’t exactly the kind of answer Tony was looking for, but he guessed Steve was being helpful in his own way. “Yeah, probably.” Steve had taken a step back with a glass now tightly clenched in one hand. “Maybe I should try taking my shirt off?” Tony responded speculatively and with a bit of a leer. He reached down to grab the hem of the tank when Steve’s own hand halted him.

 

“I don’t think taking your clothes off is necessary,” he said in a low, hard voice. Steve gave Tony a severe looking stare that had Tony feeling incredibly nervous.

 

Uh oh. He should have expected that kind of reaction from a guy not too used to this century yet. “Relax, I was joking. No need for the grabby hands. I thought you were in the military, soldier.” Tony shook Steve’s large hand off his own. The callouses there shouldn’t have been as surprising as they were. Tony could still feel a ghost of the touch as he migrated closer to the microwave.

 

Steve had gone on to pour a glass of milk. “I was, but no one-“ he cut off suddenly. “I think it’s safe to say no one currently in that room,” a slight head shift to indicate the common room, “is it.”

 

“Hmm, yeah,” Tony agreed. “That’s a relief.” He was trying to sound like he felt that way but he was a bit dejected. Not that it wasn’t a teammate, but because that still left a pool of people to look into and that was very tedious. He wished whoever this was would do or say something to make it clear it was them. Tony would respect their privacy for now, but it was eating away at him every day. He was now willing to admit he was starting to develop feelings for this person without even really knowing them. They seemed nice, at least of average intelligence for their evasion tactics alone, and had the type of sense of humor that Tony could really appreciate. What more could a guy ask for? Tony was frowning when he walked back in the room with a full bowl of popcorn.

 

The next day Tony groggily brought himself to his lab, dragging his feet as he went. The movie night had turned into a much longer affair than anticipated. The film Tony had suggested had ended up being a big hit. They went on to watch three more movies after that. Sleep was a fleeting thing for Tony, and he had ended up waking up earlier than he wanted. Now that he was up, he might as well work.

 

There was a croissant, coffee, and a bright blue sticky note waiting for him. It was the final confirmation that it couldn’t be an Avenger. No way any of them were up this early after last night. Traces of sleep were wiped away instantly as he walked much more quickly than was necessary across the room. He picked up the coffee mug, peeling the sticky note off it as he went. Tony started gulping down the black coffee as he read the note before promptly choking on it. It took a few moments to get his bearings back as he sputtered on the liquid and tried to regain his breath. He’d let the note drop back on the table like it was on fire, then picked it up and read it again to be certain he’d read it correctly the first time.

 

_ 'I want to hold you down and have my way with you. You don’t even know what you do to me, do you?’ _

 

Tony was glad no one was there to witness him gaping at a sticky note. The writing this time was done in pencil. The words so light that the hesitancy was clear. The letters had all run together in what was probably the messiest note yet. Tony found himself swallowing hard and wasn’t entirely sure what to do with himself when something hot started to pool in his belly.

 

He agreed with himself then and there that he wasn’t going to stoop down to a level where he got off on a sticky note. That wasn’t what was about to happen here. His thoughts were running away with themselves anyway. Multiple points of the phrasing stood out to him. For instance, who actually said ‘have my way with you’ like that? And why was that so hot? His eyes flickered back to the first part. Holding someone down sounded more on the masculine side, although, Tony had several fond memories of women who had attempted doing so or had succeeded in doing so with the use of restraints. All consensual, of course.

Still, this in combination with a number of other things had Tony fairly certain it was a man. Which was more progress than Tony had expected when waking up this morning. Images were flickering through his mind of a faceless body doing just that. It had been a while since he’d fucked a guy. Even longer since his partner had done the topping. Tony definitely wasn’t averse to the idea though. Quite the opposite.

 

_ 'I’m sorry, the last thing I wrote was very inappropriate.’ _

 

_ 'When I said it was very inappropriate, I wasn’t trying to take it back. I do think about you that way sometimes. Honestly, a lot of the time.’ _

 

_ 'Just pretend like you didn’t read the last three?’ _

 

_ 'I meant to say pretend if that works better for you. If that doesn’t work better, then feel free to remember them.’ _

 

_ 'To be clear, I’m not trying to tell you what to do. I know you don’t like that. What I mean is do what you want.’ _

 

_ 'Oh jeez.’ _

 

_ 'You make me feel a little crazy. I’m crazy about you.’ _

 

Note after note had been jammed into a single week, each one, making his heart flutter faster in his chest. There was something terribly amusing about the obvious insecurities spread across each sticky note. He’d forced himself to go to sleep for a least a couple hours each day so he could collect more of them. Each felt like a piece of the person writing it and Tony wanted them all.

 

There hadn’t been one when he’d woken up that morning, but then, he’d been woken up by a not-so-happy Pepper phone call.  Their communication had fallen back into a more normal rhythm. This did not mean any less frustration on her part. After spending some time rifling through his drawer of sticky notes, Tony had decided on taking a shower. He’d had one built right off his lab for easy access. Tony needed one, but he was also hoping that when he’d come out it would be to neon and a coffee. It was a little presumptuous of him, but that didn’t stop him from taking longer than usual.

 

When Tony came out in just pants and a towel around his shoulders it wasn't to the sight of food or a sticky note because a big, immovable object was standing at his workshop bench. Tony had to beat down the unease and temptation to run over there. Before going into the shower he'd gone into his special drawer, taken out a lot of the sticky notes, and had gone through them with manic intensity. He'd not thought to put them back, thinking the only one who would come down here was the person who wrote them. Instead, he had Steve.

 

Steve turned around and did a double take, immediately stiffening up. With Steve it was hard to tell if the stiffness was a result of the arc reactor or his half nakedness. The guy was such a prude in Tony's eyes that a little bit of skin sent him into a tizzy. Less 1940s and more 1800s. "Don't have a heart attack, I'm putting a shirt on."

 

He got an unintelligible sound from Steve in return before a strained response. "I'm not having a heart attack." His voice came out lower than usual and a little bit shaky. It wasn't too convincing to Tony, but who was he to argue?

 

Tony had walked over to the couch, which had several articles of clothes strewn over it. He ran the towel through his hair one last time before discarding it haphazardly. Tony picked up a shirt, giving it a sniff test that it failed, before finding a Pink Floyd shirt that was more acceptable. Steve watched the whole thing with just the slightest edge of contempt. Tony shrugged the shirt on while his teammate took in his every move.

 

"Happy?"

 

"Not really."

 

Tony shrugged and walked over to Steve and his work bench, mostly interested in the work bench. "What's up, man with a plan?" Tony questioned, closing in on them both.

 

"I, uh-" Steve was floundering and Tony would have found that much more interesting if there wasn't an everything bagel, coffee, and a green sticky note attached to the worktable. All other words left him as he rushed over to pick the square of paper up. Steve stopped trying to speak when he realized he had none of the engineer's attention.

 

_ 'You’re in the shower right now and the idea of joining you is tempting. I somehow ended up back here. I say ‘somehow’ like you haven’t seen yourself in a mirror. I’ll probably apologize for this later.' _

 

After all the vacillating that had taken place in the last week Tony hadn't been expecting another statement like that. Hadn't expected it, but wasn't displeased about it either. He looked up to see Steve was a bright red that wasn't restricted just to his face, but traveled down to his neck and probably lower. Oh boy, he'd read it, hadn't he? Now that was a little embarrassing. Tony could feel himself flushing in reaction to the thought that was pretty much a fact if Steve was to go by at this point.

 

Tony cleared his throat, setting the sticky note back on the counter and picking up the coffee instead. He took a long sip, not meeting Steve's eyes. Steve had moved on to stare at the sticky note Tony had taped above his work table. The one that read, _'You are simultaneously a genius and an idiot.'_ He'd originally had it stuck up there with the sticky note's own adhesive, but time and gravity had pulled it off time and again. Finally Tony had gotten out the tape.

 

"Why do you have this one up there?" Steve finally asked breaking their silence and the uncomfortable tension.

 

"Seemed accurate enough," Tony muttered, wanting Steve to unsee this whole disaster. It felt oddly enough like having his heart on a platter. He wasn't sure what Steve would do or say next. Wasn't sure Steve knew that it would take only one wrong sentence for it to feel like a stab in his chest. "I'd have thought you, of all people, would have agreed."

 

"Maybe with half of it," Steve quipped with a small secretive smile. He thought he was so clever.

 

"Har, har," Tony said. He had left himself open for that, really. "Did you see anyone leave here when you came down?" Tony tried to sound disinterested, but could tell he was failing as Steve looked away from him again. Maybe his friend was growing concerned with Tony's obvious obsession.

 

"No, no one down here but me, that I saw."

 

Tony nodded and tried not to think about how Steve and his admirer must have just missed each other. How Tony had probably just missed him. If he'd taken a shorter shower he could have come out and caught him right in the act. It wasn't an easy thing to process and Tony had to put in an effort to keep an easy going smile on his face.

 

"What can I do for you today Captain?" Tony paused and looked around the lab. "Now that I think about it have you ever actually been down here before?" he questioned. Tony was pretty sure he'd brought all suit modifications to Steve directly instead of requesting Steve to come down here. Steve wouldn't let Tony near the shield, which continued to be insulting. It's not like he was going to melt it down. Okay, so a little part of him wanted to melt it down, but only to make it even better than before.

 

"I, uh-"

 

"Do you want a tour?" Tony was perched carefully on the stool and cocked his head to the side. "A little overwhelming?" he asked when Steve didn't respond and continued to look around like his environment would supply him with a response. Tony could see how the space could be too much for Steve. It was the future personified. All clean lines, blinking lights, and gadgets that you'd have once believed could only be limited to the imagination.

 

"It's not overwhelming," Steve managed to get out his voice seeming strained. "Maybe another time." The way it was worded made it seem like Steve was trying not to offend him.

 

"Okay," Tony said, not nearly as concerned with the topic as his teammate appeared to be. He swept one arm over his pile of sticky notes and pushed them back into their drawer, shutting it harder than necessary. "Sorry, I didn't catch why you were down here, then?"

 

There was more hesitation and this time it didn't escape Tony's notice. Steve was acting a little weird, but Tony couldn't figure out the why of it. "Paperwork," Steve responded at last and it resembled a breath of relief more than an actual word. "It's been weeks, Tony," Steve now had a reprimanding tone to his voice.

 

"Really, Cap? You came down here for that?" Tony asked to distract from the fact that he had not looked at the reports -- lots of reports -- that needed his sign off. He was really supposed to write his own reports, with his own telling of the version of events when it came to missions. It quickly became clear to the other Avengers that that wasn't going to happen. It wasn't that Tony didn't want to fill out his own reports- Well, yeah it was kind of precisely that. As a result a new system came into place where Tony would just sign off on Steve's version of events, verifying them as true. Worked well enough for everyone up until when Tony forgot to do that, too.

 

He had forgotten for a couple weeks. What wasn't clear was why coming down here to harass him over it made Steve so nervous. Tony was fairly certain that Steve thrived on berating Tony and telling him what to do. It was his least favorite cornerstone of their relationship. He looked much more relaxed now that he'd said it. "I don't want to bother you for them, but Shield has been calling me up."

 

"They do realize I fund most of this, right?" Tony muttered, picking up his tablet to start flicking through different designs. He wasn't sure yet what he was going to build today. Maybe one of his Stark projects instead of something directly Avengers related. Pepper had been bothering him over a prototype of something or other this past week. It'd come to him.

 

"Tony." It was only a step above Steve saying Stark in that tone and two steps from him saying Iron Man that way. It was Captain America's voice and should have resulted in Tony falling right in line. Instead, it made him want to rebel just on principal.

 

"I'll get it to you today, okay? Cool your star spangled, tight, in-shape ass," he said quietly. See? A Stark could play nice when they wanted. He really had been putting them off for too long, but in his defense he had a million and ten things to do. Writing his signature across some paper over an event that was done with ranked low on the priority list.

 

"Sounds good. I'll be upstairs if you need me."

 

Tony wasn’t sure what he’d need Steve for, but he nodded along anyway. Steve gave him one last smile before heading out, the swish of doors sliding shut behind him the only sound in the room. Tony knew he should probably get the reports done right away, but figured they could wait just a few minutes. A few minutes turned into a few hours as Tony first studied the new sticky note for a solid thirty minutes before deciding he should at least get started on the prototype Pepper wanted. Once he started it was a little difficult to stop. Upon stopping he realized he’d never actually eaten the bagel and should probably get that out of the way first.

 

It was around noon when he opened the first report. He flicked through the pages, scanning quickly for anything that he disagreed with enough that it’d warrant him having to do his own report. The Captain was very thorough and surprisingly objective. What surprised Tony the most was the number of times he praised Iron Man’s maneuvers. Sure, they had become friends, but he’d always felt like the Captain felt he was better off as tech support than a hero. It gave him the kind of validation he would never admit out loud he looked for.

 

_ 'Resourceful and innovative.’ _

 

_ 'Unendingly brilliant, but equal parts maddening.’ _

 

_ 'Doesn’t know how to listen. Admittedly, his call in this scenario proved to be the right move.’ _

 

_ 'I hadn’t considered that particular option before, for all the risks I outlined above. I don’t think anyone but someone with his level of genius could have pulled it off. Even then extremely dangerous, everything about it was unsafe. He has no regard for his own life, when it’s worth more than he seems to know.’ _

 

_ 'It was a team effort, but Iron Man was really the hero of the day.’ _

 

Tony put down the paper blinking at it a little stupidly. He’d known all of this of course. Probably had said variations of it to Steve himself. Tony was fairly certain that Steve had yelled and berated him over every one of the situations he had described after the mission was complete. That wasn’t the only thing that was bothering Tony as an unknown feeling started to claw its way up his throat. There was something else bothering him, but he could wrap his head around why.

 

He reread a particular sentence. _'I don’t think anyone but someone with his level of genius could have pulled it off.’_   Well, it was true of course, no denying that. So why did it bother Tony so much? He continued to stare at all the letters in front of him. Steve actually wrote out his reports instead of typing it all on a computer. You could take the man from the 1940s, but you could not take the 1940s out of the man. Tony continued to muse as something important alluded him.

 

He put the papers down, signing one after the other before reordering them into a neat pile. Tony stood up prepared to go upstairs to deliver the reports to Steve himself. Technically he should probably be giving them to Coulson, but handing them off to Steve sounded much easier. Plus it might give him peace of mind to have proof that they were done.

 

The orange sticky note that Steve had previously been eyeing that was taped above his work station caught his eye. _'You are simultaneously a genius and an idiot.’_ Tony began to reflexively grin at the sight of it, but that froze on his face, the rest of his body growing taut as he stared more closely at the word ‘genius.’ A word that he’d used for himself so many times and had never appeared to be as damning as it was now.

 

“No,” Tony shook his head, breaking out of his stillness. “No,” he repeated, letting the reports spill back onto the metal surface. The one word spilled out of his mouth in a mantra as he began clumsily pushing papers aside to find the word genius again. How the top of the ‘g’ didn’t completely connect and the gentle curve of it. The e was more cursive than print. It was all the same. The same word written in the same hand. Tony ripped open his drawer of sticky notes combing through the reports and only find more and more evidence that they were written by the same person.

 

That his sticky notes had been written by Steve Rogers.

 

Tony was startled out of his own shock when his knees started to buckle. He made an attempt to regain balance by leaning on his stool, but it only ended with both of them on the floor. Tony wasn’t sure he wanted to move himself from the cool surface as a panicked warmth flooded him. It was becoming hard to breathe as the implications of everything fell on him. He’d told Steve things about his secret admirer in confidence and the whole time Steve had been… He’d been the one writing the notes.

 

Tony was afraid to ask what that meant, but he was pretty sure he already had the answer. He wound his hands into his hair, sitting there and staring out at the expanse of his workshop, all the conversations replaying through his head. Oh, Steve must have had a good laugh after all of those, his speculations, wearing that tank top to movie night. He probably was barely able to restrain himself from how hilariously serious Tony had been taking all of it. Not in a million years would Tony have predicted that Steve would pull this kind of prank. Was he the only one in on it? Were the others all up there laughing at him, too?

 

He shook his head hard. No way Bruce would go along with this. Thor wasn’t of this world enough to even know what a sticky note was. Clint and Natasha were a harder read. He never would predicted this from any one of the Avengers. Yet, here was nearly undeniable proof that Steve had been messing with him for months. To what end, Tony wasn’t really sure. The ‘idiot genius’ had never seemed a more fitting title than it did now. The only thing Tony could be certain of was that he’d fallen for a masterful long-con joke.

 

Part of him wanted to go upstairs and throw the biggest tantrum of his life. That would be ridiculous, though. Over a collection of sticky notes? The extent of how irrational his feelings had been up to this point couldn’t be more obvious. What had he been thinking? True love could be found in tiny little pieces of paper delivered at a regular, but erratic schedule? Okay, so he couldn’t go up there and yell his head off, but he at least needed to make it clear that the Tony sticky note business was over with. Steve had had all the laughs he was going to get from this.

 

Almost an hour had gone by before Tony felt he was collected enough to handle going upstairs and delivering the reports to Steve like he’d originally planned. The thoughts had only grown in their self deprecating nature, but so had the anger. The only one that was allowed to humiliate Tony Stark was Tony Stark. Okay, and also Rhodey. And probably Pepper, but that wasn’t the point. No one was allowed to make Tony feel the way he was feeling right now.

 

He’d intended to make a couple of cool remarks, deliver what was needed and then hightail it out of there so he could brood for a week with a lot of scotch. A week was the cap he’d put on self pity before he’d force himself to snap back into shape and figure out a way to work with Captain America without wanting to punch him in the face.

 

Whatever plan he had, it fled the moment he was in the common area. Natasha and Bruce were there watching soap operas on the couch. Steve was at the table by the kitchen going over flashcards. Tony had taught Steve how to ask JARVIS to make them. They were filled with the various events and information he’d missed while on ice. It had been probably over a year since the Capsicle had thawed, but a year had only put a small hole in the many things Steve was looking to learn. He looked so boyishly handsome concentrating on each index card with a furrowed brow.

 

When he looked up his face stretched into a welcoming show of teeth. It almost made Tony believe that what he knew as truth had to somehow be less than that. There was no way that a guy who just naturally looked this good and virtuous could have intentions so far from that. Almost.

 

Tony could feel the semblance of sanity he’d gathered snap. “You,” he said pointing at Steve. Tony removed the pointed finger from the air and move it to his mouth.

 

“Me?” Steve said quizzically. Tony must not look as composed as he’d originally intended because there was also something wary to it.

 

“Yeah,” Tony shook his head and walked over. “You wanted these.  Here they are.” He realized his voice was colder than it should have been when he dumped the paperwork near where Steve was sitting.

 

“Oh, thank you.” Tony ignored him, moving on ahead to the kitchen with a single minded kind of focus. Once again his face must be conveying something his words weren’t because Steve was asking, “How are you doing?”

 

“Oh good, good. You?” Tony muttered opening and slamming cabinets as he went. “Coffee? Do you want coffee?” Tony had picked up a mug and found himself laughing when he placed it back down. Steve started to speak but Tony didn’t let him get anywhere. “No, you don’t want coffee. Caffeine doesn’t work on your perfect body the same way! No, no Mr. All-American wants a glass of milk. How wholesome!” There was more laughter and Tony wasn’t fully gripping what side of hysterical he sounded. Whatever intentions he had coming in here had been lost as he took a glass in hand and opened up the fridge. “I might be a futurist, but I didn’t see this one coming,” he muttered to himself manically.

 

“Tony?” It was carefully phrased and concern had seeped into the single word. He could tell everyone must be staring at him as he slammed the glass on the table and began pouring milk into it.

 

“So this is what a Stark caffeine crash looks like.”

 

Tony paused in his ministrations. “Shut it, Clint,” he called, pointing to where he expected the archer to be only to find the spot empty. Another expectation not met. Tony stared up at the ceiling. “Get out of the vents! Those aren’t designed to support human weight, you dumbass!” And now he was shouting and it was at the wrong person, but shouting felt good. Gave him enough clarity to calm down a little.

 

He breathed out of his nose and took a minute to try and remember what he was doing with a glass of milk in his hands. Pretty sure this wasn’t the plan. Now everyone was looking at him with a glass of milk in his hands. He stomped back over to the table a deposited the glass without much care. Half the contents ended up spilling over the sides. Taking in Steve’s wide-eyed expression would have been comical at another place and in a time where Tony’s heart didn’t feel like it had been shattered in its chest. Twice in one year, would you look at that?

 

“Tony?” Steve tried again, just barely able to reach around the mess to grab up the files so that they didn’t get wet. The milk was spilling over the edge of the table’s surface by the time Tony had reached into his pocket for a bright yellow sticky note of his own that he placed on the glass. The letters were shaky and in all caps.

 

_ 'Fuck off.’ _

 

Tony only stood there long enough to see as it dawned on Steve, that Tony was well aware of the sick game he was playing and was never going to be fooled by the good ‘ole Steve Rogers act again. How many hits was Tony going to take before he learned that he couldn’t trust anyone but himself and Rhodey? He didn’t look back to see Steve’s face turn the color of the liquid dripping onto the floor.

 

He heard the clatter as he approached the elevator. He’d expected the doors to open immediately upon pushing the button only they didn’t. Tony pushed it again and again, more rapidly with each go.

 

“Tony, wait, wait.” Steve vaulted up the short steps to get to the platform leading to the elevator. The mechanical doors slid open, but Tony was fairly certain that there was no way they would close before Steve was able to enter the lift. Tony resigned himself to the fate of having to listen to bullshit as he stepped on. “Tony,” Steve said again like it was the most familiar name in the world. He had one hand on the elevator door, making sure it didn’t close as he stepped in.

 

“Captain,” Tony uttered as stiffly as he could possibly muster. It might not have been the most believing mask he’d put on after part two of his nervous breakdown. He did feel a lot more centered than when he originally entered the common room.

 

“Can we talk?” Steve said quietly, looking over at where everyone else was quietly pretending nothing was happening. The doors slid shut.

 

“I’d prefer if we didn’t. For a few days at least. After that, strictly Avengers business. I can be a professional,” Tony said, looking down at his watch. He’d designed these elevators. They were supposed to move quicker than this.

 

“What do you mean, ‘strictly Avengers business?’” Steve asked, and Tony had to look away. It was like Steve was trying to do his best imitation of a kicked puppy. He was doing a marvelous job at it, too, Tony could nearly be convinced that he’d contrived the whole scenario in his head. “I knew you might not- I accepted that you wouldn’t,” Steve tumbled off the sentence. “I thought you would still want to be friends, though?” he asked and there was a hopeful lift to his voice.

 

Tony had been expecting bullshit excuses, not whatever this was. “You wanted to be friends?” Tony asked, really impressed by this level of delusion. “After what you did? I may not have grown up in your era, but I’m fairly certain this is not how friends behaved even then.” Tony got closer to the door, impatiently tapping his foot and wanting to get away from Steve as quickly as possible.

 

“I know,” Steve said hurriedly as the elevator dinged to the floor and the doors started to open. “I should have been up front. It wasn’t supposed to start like that. I don’t know when it got like that. When I started to-“ Steve cut off as Tony stepped off and tried to hurriedly head to the lab.

 

Tony was surprised when a hand wrapped itself around his wrist. He tried to take another step forward only to realize while the grip wasn’t harming him it wasn’t an easily broken one either.

 

“Can I just explain?”

 

Tony stared down at where Steve’s large hand easily captured his wrist. It still struck him as oddly gentle, the way Steve was holding his hand up by extension. Another cleverly crafted illusion, no doubt. It would only hurt when Tony tried to pull away.

 

“You have a second to let go of my hand Rogers or else I’m involving JARVIS and my suit.” He tried to keep his tone as even as he could after the show upstairs. Still, his voice trembled with barely contained rage at the thought that he couldn’t free himself, that he would have to wait for Steve to give him that.

 

Steve was blinking at his own hand in surprise. “I’m sorry,” he said, quickly releasing him. “Can we please talk?”

 

Tony was already halfway in his lab when he turned around. “You should have thought of wanting to talk before starting this messed up game of yours. I get it, you don’t like me. Creating a bunch of fake little love letters and pretending to be my friend though? You have issues I want no part in. JARVIS, blackout.”

 

“Yes, Sir.”

 

The walls that lined the lab went from see-through glass to completely opaque in the span of a couple seconds. Tony took those seconds to stare at Steve’s stunned face. There was a dull thudding on the walls for the minutes following. If Steve really, really wanted, he could probably get through the layers of glass that separated them. Tony doubted Steve would risk angering him further if the look he’d seen was anything to go off of. He tried to ignore the words on the elevator and the way they had been delivered as he dragged his sorry self to the workspace.

 

He’d take a couple days down here to get his emotions in check with whatever suppression was necessary. After that, he’d figure out a way to be able to communicate with Steve without wanting to punch him in the gut. There was no way they’d ever be friends, but he did have to work with the guy. The whole ‘greater good’ thing was more important than his personal feelings on the matter. There wasn’t much to look forward to anymore, a problem he’d had when Pepper left, too. But that had been a problem that he could leave behind in every battle. He couldn’t exactly forget about this while firing all repulsors and Captain America in his field of vision. Yeah, he was going to have to figure out another way to handle this. A way he suspected involved a lot of alcohol.

 

He hadn’t been going at the bottle as heavily after his brush with death from the palladium poisoning. Tonight felt like a special occasion to raid his supply down here. It wasn’t a pretty night, but it hadn’t been a particularly pretty morning, either. He would have happily slept all the next day and drank into the following evening if JARVIS hadn’t woken him up at some ungodly hour.

 

“What time is it?” Tony mumbled, prying his eyelids open despite the deadweights trying to keep them down. He hadn’t even made it to his cot down here and was instead on the couch. There were worst places to crash. He found that there was a tumbler at his fingertips. Tony tipped it towards his face only to find it empty.

 

“One O’clock, Sir.”

 

“I am too sober then,” Tony muttered pushing himself into a seated position.

 

“Captain Rogers has been asking to come in for exactly-“

 

“I don’t really care, JARVIS,” Tony said, quickly cutting him off before he could say another word about Steve. He was definitely too sober for that right now. He was really hoping that wasn’t why JARVIS had forced him into consciousness. If so, they were going to be having a serious talk.

 

“Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes has been calling.”

 

“No. Do not patch him through,” Tony mumbled quietly while trying to straighten out his clothes into some semblance of order. “What about ‘black out’ wasn’t clear?”

 

“Patching him through as requested, Sir.”

 

Tony shot up to his feet, glaring towards the ceiling -- an annoying habit he had gotten from the other Avengers, because apparently logic stated that disembodied voices came from the ceiling. Not exactly the case, but he wasn’t going to get into that with them. “JARVIS. No! You are not actually pretending to mishear me right now,” he had started out loudly, but ended up with his head in his hands because of course his A.I. was pretending to mishear him.

 

“What the hell, Tony?” Rhodey said as he came on the line. It was a video call, and the picture of his best friend came sharply into view. The background noise was loud and Tony was fairly certain Rhodey was currently at a military base. “Nice of you to call me back. We were suppose to have a conference last night?” he said glaring down at Tony.

 

Yeah, he had definitely forgotten that. Most of their conferences were about War Machine, new additions to the suit, and Avengers actions in correlation with the military. If Tony had thought no longer being in a contract with the military would mean fewer work calls with Rhodey, he had been wrong. “Sorry, I got distracted.” Tony sat back on the couch letting his head tilt upwards and his arms spread on the back of it. “Can it wait until another time?”

 

“What’s wrong?” Rhodey asked without preamble, a suspicious tilt to his face.

 

“What’s wrong? Why do you assume something is wrong? There isn’t always something wrong,” Tony came out defensively.

 

“You look like shit.” That was probably an understatement. He felt like he’d been ran over by a truck. It served him right, drinking that much without eating anything. He was lucky the worst he was suffering right now was a migraine.

 

“Dum-E, painkillers,” Tony said, motioning to the bot and knowing he had some on hand somewhere. “I had a rough night,” he said with a shrug that he was hoping would deflect his friend.

 

“I can tell. Do you want to talk about it?”  That was pretty much the opposite of what Tony wanted to do. It didn’t go well with his ‘bury this as deep and quickly as possible’ plans.

 

“Captain America is a dick.”

 

“Nothing new there,” Rhodey said as he walked into a room and shut the door behind him. The drop in noise level was immediately noticeable. “I thought you were coming around to him. You were talking about him so much I thought you’d found my replacement.”

 

Tony scoffed and tried to think back on their various conversations over the past month. He hadn’t talked that much about Cap, had he? “Don’t sell yourself short. Speaking of which, Cap is too tall to replace you. I don’t look as good standing next to him.” Dum-E handed him two Tylenol, and he swallowed them dry.

 

“Such an ass,” Rhodey chuckled. “So are you going to tell me what happened or what?”

 

Tony was extremely confident that he had meant to say something that was simultaneously evasive and hilarious. Instead, he sighed. “Well, if you insist.” He uneasily launched into everything that had happened over the past few months. Tony tried to keep his voice as unwavering and apathetic as possible, but wasn’t sure he had succeeded. There was a certain uplifting sensation when he finished it all. He wasn’t certain why he’d kept this sequestered away from Rhodey in the first place.

 

“Wow. If what you’re saying is true, Captain America is definitely a dick.”

 

“Who would have thought?” Tony said sarcastically and with more venom than he felt up to at the moment. What he really needed was to find another bottle to gulp down before all the feelings came back.

 

“I wish you had told me about this sooner, Tony.” Rhodey said leveling him with a look Tony couldn’t take seriously, despite knowing that he should.

 

“Yeah, it was just feeling too much like the start of a Nicholas Sparks novel.”

 

“A what? What have you been reading?”

 

“Never mind, that’s not important,” Tony muttered. He’d made it back over to his work desk, having shown Rhodey a couple of the notes. The one about his genius and idiocy glared back at him mockingly from the wall. Having gone through everything with his friend verbally he realized now how obvious it had been. The subtle ways that Steve had been making fun of him during their conversations. He probably should have trashed them all by now, but couldn’t bring himself to yet.

 

“There’s just one thing I don’t get, though.”

 

“What’s that?” Tony asked, looking away from the note on the wall and back at his best friend.

 

“Why do you think it was all some elaborate cruel joke?”

 

Tony looked at Rhodey in plain confusion. “I don’t understand?” he responded back. He felt like he’d been very clear in his detailing of the story and Rhodey’s question didn’t make any sense.

 

“I mean, why do you think the sticky notes aren’t real? Yeah, maybe he was being mean, but it kind of sounds like he may have actually been trying to flirt with you, Tony.”

 

Tony stared at Rhodey like he was finally showing the differences in their IQs. “Seriously?”

 

“I just don’t understand why you automatically drew the conclusion that it was a joke. Did he say that?”

 

“What? No,” Tony said shaking his head. “See, this is why we don’t do girls night! Of course it was a joke. How could it be anything but a joke? He’s Captain America.”

 

“I think he gets to be Steve Rogers first.”

 

“You’re really going with this, aren’t you?” Tony said, sighing. “Okay, let’s entertain the idea for a minute that Steve Rogers is that shy and out of touch with dating social norms, no matter the century, that he decided to express his feelings this way. He’d have to be… He’d have to be-“ A complete dork, for one thing. More than a little insecure about himself, and pretty sure Tony would reject him. He’d have to have a snarky sense of humor that worked perfectly with Tony’s. A decent appreciation for how amazing Tony was, of course… And a lot of other things that fell perfectly into what he had come to know about Steve Rogers. A lot of things that made more sense than yesterday’s accusations.

 

“Oh, no. No,” Tony said, feeling bewildered. “I didn’t make that kind of miscalculation. He’s straight! He wouldn’t! Captain America would never want someone like me.”

 

Rhodey stared for what felt like minutes in a silence Tony couldn’t shake. His thoughts must have been clear on his face because Rhodey finally said, “I think I’m going to let you go so you can talk this out with him. You two lovebirds have fun.”

 

“I’m not-“ Rhodey had hung up the video call before Tony could finish his sentence. “Damnit, Rhodey.” 

 

Damn Rhodey for letting these kind of thoughts enter Tony’s head. They were particularly dangerous to someone like him. If he opened himself to the possibility…

 

_ 'I was wrong about you. I think about telling you that to your face, but can never seem to say it when I’m standing in front of you.’ _

 

He could feel a sort of horrible clenching in his chest as he shut the drawer on the notes. Reading any of them with Steve’s voice in mind felt like pieces clicking into place. If he discovered that his first suspicion was right after falling into this variation on hope it would take much longer than a week to put himself all back together. More than a few of the notes made sense now. Some of them were hard to believe. Tony tried not to think about any of them and cursed his memory when the letters kept popping into his head.

 

_ 'I want to hold you down and have my way with you. You don’t even know what you do to me, do you?’ _

 

He remembered the night before, had on multiple occasions. The way Steve’s voice had lowered as he talked to him. He had contributed it to not wanting to disturb the others. Had found the way Steve was invading his space nerve inducing. Tony had recognized the tension then, but had labeled it as something else at the time. Had Steve been thinking about that while they stood in that small space? Until he went to sleep? Tony could feel his breath start to pick up and he tried to shake the ideas coming into his head.

 

Yesterday morning, he’d watched Steve go red. He’d been correct to assign Steve’s state as embarrassed, but wrong about why. More of the different moments with Steve went through his mind and he realized he really was an idiot.

 

It also meant that he had to talk to Steve.

 

Tony rubbed his hands into his eyes before trying to floof his hair into something other than the bedhead look he had going on. He immediately cursed himself for putting in any kind of effort. It implicated that he was looking forward to a conversation that couldn’t possibly go well. Not with Tony being who he was.

 

“JARVIS, you can lift the blackout,” Tony said quietly, hoping that the A.I. would pretend to mishear him again and ignore the request.

 

He didn’t.

 

Tony couldn’t do much more but gape as the wall that lined the hallway to the elevator became transparent again. There were thousands of sticky notes in various colors covering the wall, all with the same message written on them over and over again. At this point Tony would have to be blind not to get the hint.

 

_ 'I like you. -SR’ _

 

Oh yeah, he was in trouble now. Tony stared, taking in what a feat that must have been. Writing all of those out on the adhesive side and then taking the time to individually put them all up. It must have been hours. Any thought left that this could have been an elaborate game was quickly dwindling to nothing. Tony wasn’t sure how to categorize his emotions at the moment, but he knew he needed to talk to Steve. Steve who had spent all of this time caring about Tony only to be proverbially kicked in the teeth.

 

Exiting the doors to his lab, he didn’t need to look far. There was Steve, looking half asleep. He was leant up against the wall opposite to the paper art project. His eyes widened and he pushed off the wall upon seeing Tony, his expression the most guarded Tony had ever seen it.

 

“Hi,” Steve said quietly.

 

“Hey,” Tony ventured out, hoping it sounded friendly. It felt like it came out more overwhelmed than anything.

 

There was a pause, and Tony wasn’t sure where to look. Steve took a step closer to him and that made Tony want to step back into the safety of his lab. “I like you.”

 

Tony nodded to that. Tried to act like he wasn’t melting from the combination of romantic gesture and adorable confession. “Yeah, okay. That point is clear. What is that? Trying to build a piñata? That can’t be good for the planet.” Tony took a step closer to the wall and turned his body so he wasn’t exactly facing Steve head on.

 

“Can we talk?”

 

“Should I wait in my lab while you write out what you want to say? I have my own pad of sticky notes I could lend you. Only yellow, I’m afraid,” Tony said quickly, nervously, as he reached forward to peel one of them off the wall. Cleaning services were going to have fun with this one. He stared down at the pink note now in his hand as if it made Steve’s words more real.

 

“It feels like you are going to be difficult.” It sounded like Steve was talking through a smile and that made Tony move his body uncomfortably.

 

“I think I’m being pretty fair, actually,” he said, sticking the note back where he found it.

 

“None of this was a game. I didn’t mean for it to get to the point it did.” Steve just jumped into the explanation and Tony couldn’t do more than listen. “I wasn’t pretending to be your friend and they weren’t fake.”

 

“I got that now,” Tony said under his breath and shifting his weight foot to foot. He turned around to take Steve in. His cheeks were red and he was looking at Tony almost pleadingly. It was painful to realize that expression was all his fault.

 

“It was just supposed to be nice. I knew we didn’t get along well and I didn’t know how to say any of it out loud, and then we were getting along and there were more things I didn’t know how to say to you, and I’m sorry.” Steve had somehow managed to tilt his head so he was looking at Tony through his eyelashes. A look of such innocent good intentions that Tony was convinced Steve had to practice it in the mirror.

 

“Okay. I’m sorry for the milk,” Tony trailed off. “The sticky note, too and, I guess, the vague threats.” Tony made a couple of hand gestures hoping they would jumpstart words. “So we’re good. Friends.”

 

Steve tried to smile, but it was a half hearted gesture. “I’m glad.”

 

Tony looked upward for a moment before taking a couple of steps closer in Steve’s direction. “You’re really not good at this, are you?” Tony asked curiously, peering at Steve who still had an edge of rejection painted on his face.

 

“What do you mean?” Steve crossed his hands over his chest in a move that was hard not to read as defensive.

 

“I don’t really get it. Why you like me. I won’t deny that you have good taste. I’d venture to say excellent taste.” He stopped walking to come to a stop in front of Steve. “So, what do you want here, ideally?”

 

“Want here?” Steve asked, his eyebrows scrunching up.

 

“Do you want to be friends? Do you want to date? Do you want to casually have sex? I’m trying to get a sense of what you’re looking for,” Tony said, not letting Steve break eye contact even as he neared the color of a fire truck. The blush was traveling down his neck again.

 

“To date!” Steve hurried out quickly. “And stuff. What I mean is I’d be happy with dating.”

 

Tony couldn’t help breaking his calm facade to smile. “I think I could manage dating and stuff.”

 

“Really?” It was a heavy combination of hope and doubt. Steve was giving Tony a searching expression.

 

“Yeah, really. One more question, though. Isn’t it the deal that the sticky notes are supposed to come with coffee? Because if so, you owe me a lot of coffee-“

 

Steve had his hand curled around Tony’s jaw to tilt his head up for a chaste kiss. Just the lightest bit of pressure, and Tony already felt his head spin. It lasted the barest of instances, but the feeling was hard to erase. There wasn’t a memory in Tony’s mind where he’d been handled with such care. Steve looked down at him with unguarded veneration.

 

“Want to show me what this ‘and stuff’ is?” Tony asked, smirking up at Steve, whose gaze was flickering quickly between Tony’s mouth and his eyes. When Steve said nothing, he continued. “Or are you too old fashioned for that?”

 

Steve rolled his eyes and did not succeed at keeping a smile off his face. “I think I can be convinced of some of these new age concepts.”

 

“Convincing? I can do that.” Tony grabbed the material of Steve’s button down shirt to pull him just that much closer. “I’m good at that.”

 

“I have no doubt.” Steve’s tone had lowered just like it had last week in the kitchen, and there was no misinterpreting his tone or his intentions. “I’m going to kiss you again.” Tony pulled Steve down to him by the end of his sentence. This time Tony was in control, and it was nowhere as chaste as the first.  This was all open mouths, panting, and hints of teeth at each other’s lips. Tony was pulling Steve backwards towards his lab at such a quick pace that Steve’s choices were to fall or follow. He did a little bit of both, looking the most clumsy Tony had ever seen the man. The hand on Tony’s jaw tightened even as he pulled away.

 

“JARVIS, lockdown, uh, let’s say twenty-four hours?” Tony looked at Steve questioningly while stepping further into the room and away from him. Every step away was filled with a sort of heated longing despite the short distance. Tony needed a moment to rummage through his desk and figure out where he had stashed his lube this time.

 

He stopped in his tracks when he saw Steve had already unbuttoned his shirt. He slid the clothes off his broad shoulders and flung it carelessly to the left. “Let’s make it forty-eight, JARVIS.” Tony was so fucked, but in the best possible way. He’d been with a lot of people, but none of them compared to the stunning physique that was Steve Rogers. It was all rolling expanses of muscle on muscle. Steve didn’t appear even a little winded while Tony felt like he was doing everything he could to force breath into his lungs faster. “Take off your shirt.”

 

“Yeah, okay,” Tony responded, his thoughts taking on a slowness that he would have sworn was impossible until this very moment. He peeled off his T-shirt with practiced ease before remembering his original mission and taking another backwards step. He wasn’t running away, but that didn’t negate how Tony felt like he was about to be hunted down. Steve was slowly closing the distance, his eyes roving over Tony’s chest. It was difficult to feel even a little anxious over the arc reactor when there was such a naked look of hunger in Steve’s face.

 

“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time,” Steve said casually, almost conversationally. Tony’s back bumped into his work station, leaving him nowhere to go. Steve may have been thinking about Tony for months, but Tony had been thinking about Steve long before he’d come out of the ice. He had always been there in the shadows of his mind while Tony was growing up, winding his way closer, all of it culminating into now.

 

“Me, too,” Tony said, because that seemed much simpler. It was too soon to let things get that serious. To feel things that deeply. Tony just wanted to enjoy right now. “I just need to get supplies,” Tony mumbled, not able to take his eyes from Steve even to turn around. He tried to recall the last person he’d ever felt this desperate for. He was embarrassingly hard when he and Steve had only shared a few kisses.

 

“Then get them,” Steve said.

 

He turned hastily to open one drawer and pawed through it. Tony had not walked out of this lab particularly optimistic the last time he’d left, and hadn’t mentally prepared for this eventuality. His brain was too clouded to think through what he was doing -- it felt more like aimless searching. All remaining thoughts fled when Steve pressed up against him in a similar state to his own. One large hand trailed across his abdomen while the other tangled in his hair, tilting his head to the side with complete ease. 

 

“What’s taking you so long?” The question was muffled by skin as Steve trailed his mouth down Tony’s neck, his tongue dancing along the vein that was pounding with what little blood was going to his brain.

 

“I, uh-“ Tony trailed off into a moan when Steve bit down into his flesh. The hint of pain heightened the pleasure as his tongue soothed the burn. His hand was playing with the waistband of Tony’s jeans.

 

Tony lightly pulled from the grip on his hair to look at Steve’s face. Steve was smiling at him, his face back to a mask of playful innocence. The flush to his face and the erection poking into Tony’s ass were the biggest tell of what a lie it all was. Tony was never falling for Steve’s goody-two-shoes act again after this. “You’re being distracting and don’t seem to need very much convincing to me.”

 

“You had me convinced the moment I saw you,” Steve said, continuing as his grin warped into something more goofy than innocent. His hand swept down to outline Tony’s bulge against his pants. Steve’s thumb played with the button of his jeans. Tony had gone still in anticipation. “Weren’t you looking for something?”

 

“If people only knew,” Tony grumbled, moving to find it as Steve unbuttoned and unzipped the front of his pants, moving his hips harder against Tony’s in a way that had him scrambling quickly through the drawers until his hands curled around a small, compact bottle. “Found it.”

 

“If you took any longer I was going to fuck you right here up against your desk. I’m still considering it.” Tony choked on whatever words were about to come out next. What had he done right in his life to deserve this, to deserve Steve? He would not have believed he’d ever be in this position a week ago. Would have laughed if anyone had told him. “But I think I’d rather see your face the first time,” Steve finished

 

“Stop talking,” Tony said, turning around and dragging Steve into another kiss. This one was rougher than the last and only increasing in intensity. Tony let his hands slide down Steve’s chest, stopping to grope him in a couple places, before taking hold of him the same way Steve had done to him. He grinned into Steve’s mouth when he thrust against his hand, searching for more friction. They needed to get their clothes off. Now.

 

Tony broke the kiss long enough to muster the concentration to push his jeans and underwear out of the way. Steve was too busy staring to get far with his own. The way he was tenting what Tony would consider to be a pleated disaster of shorts couldn’t be comfortable. Tony was doing his best to look coy. “Need help, Cap?”

 

“God, you’re beautiful.” Tony hadn’t been expecting that kind of compliment, and was surprised to find himself blushing and looking away.

 

“Couch work for you?” He was fairly certain the cot he usually used for sleeping would break under Steve’s hands, and while he wasn’t opposed to breaking the furniture, that could wait for another round.

 

Steve was nodding distractedly, but finally had succeeded in getting any material out of the way. Tony couldn’t help but stare at the long length that was bobbing enticingly in front of Steve’s body, the tip already glistening with liquid. Tony was tempted to drop to his knees in worship right there, screw any aching joints and the hard ground. Steve was watching Tony watch him with a hooded stare. Tony licked his bottom lip.

 

“You’re such a tease. Sometimes I really thought you knew. The way you’d act around me,” Steve trailed off, biting his bottom lip. “You couldn’t possibly be that-“

 

“If you don’t stop talking, Steve, and get over on that couch and start touching me again, I swear I will do something drastic,” Tony responded, and he was too old to pout, but it was a near thing with the way he was being thoroughly eye fucked while only standing a couple feet from the couch.

 

Steve was quick in dragging Tony those last few feet. Fast enough that Tony’s senses need a moment to readjust --something Steve took full advantage of, pushing him down on the couch and coming to hover over him. “That wasn’t exactly what I-“

 

He was cut off when their mouths met again and again, tongues twisting together in a dance he knew well but was all the more different because it was Steve, broken only when Steve began moving his mouth south. Tony felt lost as he tried to wrap his hand around Steve’s cock. He was rewarded with a throaty groan upon succeeding. He dropped the bottle of lube between them in favor of gripping Steve’s hair to pull him back into another heated meeting of mouths. Steve was moving forward in his hand now, precum slicking the way into motion.

 

Tony was surprised when Steve pulled away from his hold. He was kneeling above Tony, looking down at what was sure to be a disheveled mess. “I want to put my mouth on you.” It wasn’t difficult to understand how he wanted that interpreted as he dropped back down so his tongue was licking the ‘v’, leading right to where Tony wanted him the most.

 

“Far be it for me to stop you,” Tony breathed, staring down and not being able to see past the bright blue that was nearly eclipsed in black. Steve let his hot breath fall over him. Tony tried to control his hips, but was finding it increasingly difficult as Steve licked a stripe up the side of him. Steve’s hand had reached upward with a glancing touch past his nipple to wrap his hands around the lube bottle.

 

His mouth close around the head, his tongue flicking attentive licks. Tony lost all ability to track any movement. “Fuck, your mouth,” Tony groaned, and let his hands fall back into blonde hair that was no longer in perfect order. It reminded Tony of all the times he’d seen Steve post battle, with his hair stuck to his forehead because of dirt and sweat. He’d always thought Steve looked even hotter like that, had never been able to say it out loud. He was sucking down his length, and the movements were sloppy, unpracticed but with an earnestness that made up for any lack of experience.

 

Tony knew he was moaning, his hips trying to give small, aborted thrusts. He managed a startled groan when he felt one slicked up finger circling and prodding his hole. What followed was a slow and careful breach that had Tony writhing underneath Steve. Steve had that adorably pleased smile back on his face again. It was the sexiest thing Tony had ever seen and he wasn’t going to last long if Steve kept up with the slow and gentle teasing. His mouth fell on Tony again as Tony tried to explain this.

 

Steve came off of him with a pop. “I trust in your endurance,” he said before taking him down farther than he had before. Not all the way to his throat, but far enough that Tony was gasping. He should have expected the second finger to be introduced then, but still wasn’t prepared for it. He hadn’t thought Steve would be this ruthless. Thought it would be awkward niceties with check ins on how he was doing. Tony had never been so relieved to be wrong.

 

Steve was getting impatient, too. Tony could feel it in the faster movement of fingers that just brushed against his prostate. It wasn’t long before Steve began scissoring them, and the burn of the stretch was almost too much for him. “I’m ready, I’m ready,” Tony exhaled out.

 

“Are you sure?” Steve hadn’t stopped his fingers, but was giving Tony a break by using his mouth for talking.

 

“Yeah,” Tony breathed until the realization hit him. “I don’t have any condoms though.”

 

Steve glanced to the side looking thoughtful and much too put together for Tony’s tastes. Looking down at how hard, flushed, and leaking he was implied otherwise. “It’s impossible for me to give or catch anything. I’m not overly concerned unless it’s a problem for you.”

 

Tony was clean anyway, but had forgotten he was in the process of sleeping with a super soldier. “No, it’s not a problem for me.”

 

Steve didn’t waste another second, drizzling lube over himself and then Tony’s entrance. Tony was entranced by the sight of Steve with his hand wrapped around himself. It was an image that would be replaying itself in his mind for weeks. Steve held himself up with one arm as he used his hand to guide his cock with the other. Tony had forgotten how the insistent but gentle pressure felt as it gave way into pleasure. Tony was fairly certain it had never felt like this, though. Steve didn’t stop until he was flush against him. His jaw clenched and his arm trembled, the picture of restraint while Tony adjusted to his size.

 

“You okay?” his voice was tight and just barely controlled. Part of Tony wanted to live in this place just a little longer.

 

Most of him didn’t. “Yeah, yeah I’m good.” It came out between ragged breaths. He took a deep one so his next words would be clear. “Didn’t you say something about holding me down and having your way with me?”

 

Steve’s eyes narrowed until his face curled into a smirk. “You never know when to stop,” he said, clenching one hand by Tony’s hipbone. He used his other to gather both of Tony’s hands in his own, holding them above his head. Steve pulled out slowly and pushed a hard thrust back in.

 

Over and over, Steve pulled out slowly, and thrusted back in hard and fast, until Tony was whining in frustrated pleasure. He could only tilt his hips up so far with Steve in control of his movement. Pushing up against his hand felt like pushing up against steel. “Steve, please,” Tony moaned and that ended the teasing once and for all. Steve’s fingers dug into his skin deeper, certain to leave a perfect shadow of the digits when he was through with Tony. He picked up his pace, setting a punishing rhythm Tony wouldn’t have been able to keep up with even without Steve holding him into a trembling stillness.

 

All Tony could do was moan underneath him and take each hard thrust. They were delivered with accuracy, nailing his prostate each time. This wasn’t going to last long for Tony, and he could feel his orgasm curling in his gut already as Steve pounded into him impossibly harder. Steve was speaking in incoherent sentences, his face buried in Tony’s neck as he kept up the pace he had set. Sweat dripped down his neck as he sucked dark bruises along Tony’s throat. He would be a patchwork of them by the time this was all done.

 

Tony wouldn’t have it any other way. He flexed against Steve’s hold and couldn’t get anything out but throaty sounds as Steve’s rhythm became erratic, hitting him deeper than he’d have thought possible. Steve’s voice had picked up so that Tony could make out the words.

 

“I like you.”

 

Tony felt his back bow and he arched against Steve’s persistent movements, coming in thick white ropes between the two of them with a loud, broken moan that threatened to fill the room until Steve covered Tony’s mouth with his. He brought those sounds into himself as Tony’s hole convulsed around him in time with his orgasm. Steve only got a couple more thrusts in before he stilled, coming as well.

 

Steve collapsed, barely having the foresight to do so on a roll, so that only half of his body was covering Tony so Steve wouldn’t crush him with all of his weight. Tony let his arm fall over his eyes, letting the post coital afterglow take him over. He had just had sex with Steve Rogers. He was going to start dating Steve. The world had never felt more fragile and perfect to Tony than it did in that moment.

 

Steve shifted to look at the collage he’d created on the outside of Tony’s lab. All of those words not visible from here, but the knowledge unable to be erased. Steve moved again, to look between Tony and the wall with contemplation.  

 

“Could you put them all in your drawer? For the sake of the planet?”

 

“What?” Tony felt blissed out and wasn’t willing to move an inch. Steve’s weight still felt pleasant above him. “How are you this coherent?” Tony’s hand now ran across the tangles in his own damp curls. He didn’t reply again with any immediacy. “My current sticky note drawer is not big enough to fit that many,” Tony said, turning slightly so he could see what Steve was seeing: a wall filled with his adoration of Tony. It would be a hard thing to throw away, though Tony had always intended to recycle. Stark Industries was the biggest name in clean energy, after all.

 

“I have confidence in your drawer-building abilities.” Tony didn’t know why he found that so amusing, but chuckled anyway.

 

“I could probably manage it,” he said, emphasizing the probably. Steve pushed Tony’s hand away so he could stare down at him unobstructed.

 

“Thank you.” He placed a gentle kiss on Tony’s mouth.

 

“Hey,” Tony said quietly, placing his hand on the back of Steve’s head and guiding him so their foreheads were pressed close together. So all he could see was those blue eyes he admired so much.

 

“I like you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> **Works inspired by this one:**   
>  [Art by Ukumi-Chan](http://ukumi-chan.tumblr.com/post/182374431168/i-went-back-and-read-same-lovely-fic-like-a)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> [My Tumblr](http://ofthelilies.tumblr.com/)


End file.
